There were certainly advantages to sensing Imagin: even without the assistance of directions Yuuto could locate Ryotaro's crowded energy register. When he shut his eyes it burned like a multi-coloured holiday sparkler against starless night sky. It had been so long since the elder youth had used that gift he had nearly forgotten its existence. For his partner it had been hours since they fought together but for Yuuto it was years. Years of isolation and toil... death and memory... another world and another war. Again his future self had been rewritten in spilt blood and unshed tears. Yet here was someone from that other life: the single constant point. Ryotaro never could leave well enough alone. He had barged into Yuuto's fight once and refused to leave. This seemed an emerging pattern. Some small part of his mind told him to flee. But here he was running toward the other boy all over again.
When the familiar tousled head and nervous posture materialized like a waking dream before him Yuuto skidded to a stop. Despite his best efforts it seemed that very little had been forgotten; everything about Ryotaro was jarringly familiar. The perplexed tilt of his head, the worried set of his mouth when he wasn't sure what to do, the deceptively fragile frame that did not belay what strength he held inside. A Singular Point could not be forced to change like normal human beings. They were fixed in time. "Nogami!" Yuuto called, sounding for all the world as if he wasn't afraid the other would vanish any moment.
The young man standing before Ryotaro was changed from when they last saw one another. His beloved canvas sneakers had deteriorated after being subjected to years of soaking in sewer slurry and constant brutal use. Yuuto no longer resembled a fashionably rebellious teenager; the holes in his clothing were no affectation. Alien materials cobbled into garments came in a variety of too-small to voluminous and adorned by unidentifiable stains. The roundness of youth had almost gone from his features and there were fine lines developing at the corners of his eyes. Lack of nutrition had whittled him from slender to gaunt. Dirt and grease had discoloured the delicate fingers of his hands. Though he was not Sakurai yet he was obviously older by nearly half a decade.
Yuuto had not expected to see Ryotaro again. Unlike the displaced passengers of the TARDIS he had detached from his universe previous to being sucked through the White. Erased like who he would have been one day. He did not waste precious energy futilely entertaining fantasies of going home. Thus being reunited with his friend effected him more strongly than anticipated. Before realizing he had moved Yuuto closed the space between them and pulled Ryotaro into his arms. After all it had asked of him the elder Rider felt the universe owed him at least one hug.